


Melt

by spyder_m



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: F/M, Flash Forward, Lime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25443745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spyder_m/pseuds/spyder_m
Summary: After taking a bad hit while clearing out monsters in the slums, Tifa turns to Cloud for help with patching up. Lime. Written for Day 4 of the Cloti/Zerith Endless Summer Week. Prompt 'Since the invention of the kiss, there have been only five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind.'
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife
Comments: 5
Kudos: 62





	Melt

One might think that living underneath the plate would come as an advantage in the Summer, the steel sky shading grounders from the sun above. But the arid desert air still beat relentlessly against the Sector, thin and muggy with sweat. Some of the usual, more questionable odours of the slums were coated in an extra, unpleasant layer.

For Tifa, a job as routine as clearing monsters from Scrap Boulevard became noticeably more difficult.

It was harder to regulate her stamina, the speed and strength behind her blows slipping somewhat. It was only exacerbated by the drool that spilt from monsters' open mouths as they barred their fangs; they the dust kicked up, clinging to the sheen of her skin.

Still, she wouldn't let the weather keep her from helping with neighbourhood watch. For the profit, the reputation it brought to Avalanche and the well-being it ensured their little community.

That made it all worthwhile.

Tifa’s grimaced, pinching the damp fabric of her tank top between her fingers as it clung to her undershirt, before wiping her brow with the back of her hand. She lifted her arms above her head, a familiar, practiced stretch, hoping the exercise would cool her down.

Having a second set of hands did help ease the load somewhat. Though not much for the conversation, she appreciated the company. And if the heat was bothering her cohort, he hid it well; the picture of a stoic, disciplined Soldier.

Still, she couldn't help her smirk, noticing his blond spikes drooping slightly, sweat building along his hairline. Noticing her dither, Cloud lifted an eye.

“Could use a shower,” Tifa commented idly. “It’s a good thing we just changed those water filters.”

A country boy at heart, Cloud liked to think he was accustomed to the heat. Particularly in Midgar, having become familiar with the city in his time training under Shinra.

He hadn't, it seemed, spent enough time in the slums. He had not realised how suffocating it could get down there.

In particular, there was something disconcerting about the plate that loomed ominously above upon; the steel feeling as though it was closing in on them. It woke an unnerving discomfort for him. Vague memories of being crammed in a small, tight space, prodded and poked.

Must've been another one of those weird dreams. 

Though, the season proved a blessing in helping Cloud get more work. There weren't as many willing to brave the harsh conditions. 

As, he was getting to know his way around Sector 7, Tifa insisted on tagging along. She didn't have to push particularly hard to change his mind, not that he'd care to admit so aloud. He much preferred her company to Barrett's.

Though all of Avalanche had shown themselves useful in dire situations, he felt much more comfortable placing his trust in Tifa. 

"So, how much further?" He asked, sheathing his Buster Sword, after they had felled the latest pack of Gorgers.

"We should be coming up on it soon, according to Wymer."

"Lead the way."

"Right. We should wrap up soon. I'll need to get Seventh Heaven ready and open before the lunch rush."

The mark in question was a lesser drake, lingering outside one of the factories.

Cautious, it kept to the skies as it circled the scrapyard, wanting to leave a distance between itself and potential threats. Tifa smirked, fixing her glove before she cocked her fist.

"Looks like it’s not going to make this easy."

With a nod to Cloud, she vaulted herself upward, catching their target in the ribs with a whirling uppercut. The drake gave gave a ragged, cry of pain, the wind was knocked out of its lungs; not having expected her to take to the air so easily.

Not allowing their mark a moment of recovery, Tifa continued to rain rapid, powerful blows to its body, hoping to stagger it. With its attention was focused on her, Cloud cycled through different spells, trying to uncover its weakness. Desperately, it began to flap its wings in wild arcs, sending powerful gusts of wind in their direction.

The cool air lashing against their heated bodies almost came as a relief.

The force blew Tifa back, but she managed to tuck her body into a roll, cushioning the impact. She cringed at the dirt that coated her arms in sticky clumps, before returning to her fighting stance as the bird swooped at her.

As she weaved out the drake's path, it abruptly changed direction, kicking up dust to keep out Cloud's reach. Tifa intercepted, soaring up and twisting her body into a kick, looking to deliver the killing blow. This time, however, the drake anticipated her attack, bearing its claws. It caught her across the back in a frantic, clumsy swipe. With a cry, Tifa was swept aside. Unable to brace herself for the fall, she collapsed heavily onto the ground.

"Tifa!" Cloud cried out, before noticing the drake turn its attention towards him. He growled, wanting to check on her but also knowing that it would be dangerous to let his guard slip.

Cloud racked his brain, needing a way to finish this fight quickly. Lowering his sword, he noticed the Wind materia Chadley had given him earlier for compiling Battle Intel. It was the one materia he hadn't tried yet.

Quickly conjuring an aero spell, the drake shrieked as it caught in a powerful gust, dragged towards Cloud. It collapsed to the ground, its wings clipped, leaving Cloud open to bring the Buster Sword down across its neck.

As soon as the drake's body dissipated back into the Lifestream, Cloud ran towards Tifa. His hands resting at her shoulders, helping guide her upright. Though, he kept her at something a distance, not wanting to exacerbate anything if she was hurt.

"Tifa! Are you alright?"

"Y- yeah. Although, now I'm definitely going to need that shower."

"We've done enough for today. Let's get you back to the bar."

.

Cloud was in a foul mood when they returned to base, hardly an ideal time to have to report back to Barret. He didn’t have the patience or energy to respond to his sarcastic quips and Barret was equally unimpressed to find Tifa had not returned from their routine job unscathed. He was met with an icy glare from Cloud when he tried to pass the blame for Tifa's injury on him.

No matter how Tifa tried to placate the Avalanche leader, insisting it was nothing more than a mistake, Barret remained adamant. Being an ex-employee of Shinra, Cloud was already skirting a thin line, and the lone slip-up was enough to vindicate his distrust.

As if having his skill called into question wasn’t’ enough, the idea that he would play a role in harm coming to Tifa; indirectly or otherwise; left a sickening feeling in Cloud’s stomach. He left the bar in a huff, retreating to his room. 

Lounging back on his bed, Cloud found himself tempted to seek out more monsters, thinking perhaps it might quell his anger. Though, he realised it probably wasn’t the best idea. They had just returned from a hunting job, after all, and he wasn't in the clearest headspace.

If he was being honest, he felt that Barret’s words did hold some weight. Perhaps that was why they stung so much.

It was his fault Tifa had gotten hurt. He'd made a mistake to stay back and fight at a distance when she charged in. If he'd been up close, with her, they could have worked together. They probably would have beaten the drake much sooner that way.

At the very least, he could have taken that blow in her place.

He felt guilty. Avalanche had hired him to fight, to keep their members safe and it was a job he tried to fulfill to the best of his ability. Admittedly, he did so out of obligation, wanting to ensure that he got paid in full. But with Tifa, it was different.

Tifa was one of the few left he cared for, one of the first and only people in the Slums to show him kindness. Protecting her was something he took genuine care and pride in.

He truly didn’t want to see her get hurt.

She hadn’t left her room since they'd gotten back.

Cloud was beginning to grow worried.

Tifa had been insisted, stubbornly, that it wasn't a big deal and she would be fine after taking a quick break. One of the cardinal rules of Sector 7, after all, was that bed rest could help cure whatever ailed you.

Cloud hadn't been entirely convinced. So, he kept to his own room, wanting to be to close and keep on an eye on her, without violating her space or request not to be fussed over.

He couldn't make out much noise at first, sensing that perhaps Tifa had been telling the truth and was just sleeping.

After a moment, though, he could hear her shuffling around, the sound of someone setting things on the floor and muttering to themselves as they paced back and forth.

Tapping his fingers against the mattress, Cloud wondered what the problem might be. Why, if she was awake, was she staying cooped up in her room for so long? Did he need to check on her?

Sitting up from his bed and moving to open the door, Cloud eyes strained under the sudden burst of sunlight that assaulted his senses. Having adjusted to the shade and soft colours of his room, the relentless glare was an unwelcome shift.

Shielding the glare with his forearm, Cloud shuffled towards Tifa's door, stopping at the threshold. Exhaling, Cloud lifted his hand, wrapping his knuckles firmly against the door.

"Tifa, are you there?"

"Cloud?" Her voice broke after a moment. "C- can you come in?"

At the quiver carrying through her words, Cloud had to restrain himself from forcing the door off its hinges. He barged into her room, any inhibition he may have harboured evaporating, as concern for her well-being became the sole priority.

For as much she'd undersold her decoration job, Cloud was impressed by how homely Tifa had managed to make the drab apartment feel. The pictures lining the walls, the little nick-nacks on her desk and bedside table. Her clothes, books, CDs. The traces of her presence throughout the room made it feel lived in. 

It certainly seemed warmer and more welcoming than his own room. Not that that bothered him. All he needed was a place to sleep.

"Cloud?"

As he turned, Cloud's eyes bulged upon reaching Tifa, stood underneath the shower head. Her gloves, boots and skirt strewn in a pile at her feet. Nothing but the dark material of her undershirt, shorts hugging her long, toned legs.

The shock churned into alarm at the sight of her white tanktop, stained with blotches of red, haphazardly tossed by the foot of her bed. His body, impulsively, staggered towards her, hands reaching her hips at either side. 

It seemed the healing spell he'd used earlier hadn't quite been powerful enough. The Materia he'd gotten from Jessie was far from being mastered. There were still cuts littering the middle of her back, blood seeping into the material of her shirt from where the drake had slashed her.

"Do you think you could... help me out?"

Glancing up, Cloud followed her line of sight, spotting what she was talking about. The rags and bottle of rubbing alchohol lined in front of her shower, the bandages. The wound was in a somewhat awkward place to reach, even with Tifa's flexibility.

Even if she could, it was out of sight and she'd have no way of knowing if she was cleaning it properly, letting alone bandaging it up.

His mind eventually catching up to his body, Cloud noticed their close proximity and the way he was holding her. His hands ripped swiftly back, eyes lowering as he coughed. 

"S- sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's alright."

Cloud was surprised she would ask for his help with something like this. Though they all received basic training, Soldiers were known more for hurting than healing, and... He wasn't exactly one for being gentle.

He'd scared away Marlene just trying to talk to her. 

They hadn’t seen each other for years, and hadn't exactly been the closest friends when they were kids. Wouldn't it be awkward to have him cleaning her wounds when she was half-naked? Surely Jessie would have been better suited.

After all, from how casually Jessie and Biggs examined Wedge’s bare ass for burns and gunshots wounds, Cloud got the sense the group were more than comfortable being half-naked around one another.

Though, he had come to realise that there were secrets she kept even from Avalanche. From the brief words they'd exchanged, it seemed Barret didn't even know what had happened to her parents.

It made sense that she wouldn't want to mention the scar stretching down her chest, right between her breasts, from where the Masamune had slashed her. The very sight awoke a burning sensation in his stomach, a similar entry wound lining his abdomen.

It was a night that he too had lived through. The same pain that he had experienced.

For that reason, perhaps it was easier to ask him.

Sensing that he was the only one she felt comfortable turning to, made it almost impossible to turn down.

The thought that he had a connection, an intimacy with her that no one else did, stroked his ego. He wanted to flaunt it in the face of all those men in town who flirted with her, to their landlady who seemed convinced he wasn't good enough to even be around her.

It was so rare of Tifa to ask anything of someone else.

She had taken him in. Found him lying half-dead at the station when others seemed content to let him rot. The fact that he had been dressed in a Shinra uniform probably hadn't helped.

Yet Tifa had found him work and a place to stay, helped him build his reputation around the Slums and earn money, all the while holding her tongue, resolving not to bother him with the many, burning questions she likely had.

This was the least he could do to repay her kindness.

"Are you sure?"

"Mmm." Tifa hummed, coy. "I trust you."

Though Cloud, for a second, wouldn't hesitate to help her. He sensed they were teetering on the brink of something... dangerous. That if they were to go beyond this point, it could make things uncomfortable between him.

He knew how important their relationship was to Tifa, to him, and wouldn't want to do anything to jeopardise it. 

Though, there was something about those soft, pleading, red eyes that coursed warmly through him, penetrating through his guard. Those eyes reassured him always that everything would be okay.

As long as he kept himself restrained, respectful, it should be alright.

Though, after all they'd been through together, he wasn't entirely sure they hadn't mean boundaries left to cross. They were already intimately familiar with each other's greatest hardships, their most personal scars.

There was a strange comfort in having someone see you at your lowest, most vulnerable point; a trust and sense that you no longer have anything to hide from them.

"Alright." He conceded eventually. "Turn around."

Swallowing, Cloud swept the thick curtain of Tifa's hair aside, reveling briefly in its weight and softness. He'd always thought she had pretty hair as a teenager, and now it had grown much, much longer. It must have been difficult to maintain. Yet somehow appeared free of tangles, even after the fights they'd just had.

Still, it couldn't have been comfortable in this heat, and would probably get in the way of him patching her up.

"Hang on," Cloud said, releasing the tie at the end of her hair. Her eyes lifted over her shoulder, curious

Recalling the ponytail he'd worn as a teenager, Cloud's fingers sunk into the dark tresses; softer than he had imagined. He shifted the band higher, tying them out of the way in a sloppy bun.

Tifa sighed, blissfully, as the itchy weight of hair was lifted from her shoulders, fresh air cool caressing against the heated skin. She relaxed at the touch of his strong fingers against her scalp.

The reaction was puzzling to Cloud. The sound coming from her not something he had expected. After having spent years training and perfecting his body as a tool, a means to fight, it felt alien for it elicit such pleasure.

He stepped back, suddenly conscious of the bare flesh he had exposed. The slender column of her neck, the strap of her tank top as it slipped slightly from her shoulder.

With a defiant shake of his head, Cloud steeled himself to lower his gaze, concentrating solely on the task at hand.

His hands hovered over her ribs, strangely apprehensive to cover the last modicum of distance between them. It was skin he had seen several times before, had already brushed against or caught a hold of, in the adrenaline of a fight.

Yet, without the rhythm of battle guiding his movement, anything else to capture his attention, Cloud became overtly conscious of the way his fingers traced each dip and groove of her body, the feeling it evoked within him.

There was obvious tension in her muscles. Something Cloud was unsure if he could attribute to the stress and heat of their work wearing on her, or discomfort from being so close to him. Perhaps once the lingering ache of her injury passed, she would be able to relax.

With practiced care, Cloud took the cloth in his hand, dipping it into the bottle of rubbing alcohol. With measured, delicate movement, he carefully worked the cloth over one of her cuts. 

Tifa's muscles cinched up at the contact, hissing as her eyes crinkled into the slightest flinch. The reaction would have been imperceptible to most, but Cloud's hand ripped back swiftly, as though he'd burnt her. 

"Sorry."

"It's okay," Tifa said. "Keep going."

Cloud frowned, upset at the thought of causing her any discomfort. Even if it was only fleeting, even knowing her strength and that she had endured far worse; that it would ultimately help her; he wished he could make it more pleasant.

Tifa had asked specifically for him. He didn't want her to second-guess herself or think that trust in him had been misplaced. Secretly, he wanted her to rely on him. To know that even she no longer needed a hero to save her, he would still support her.

Cloud needed to show her that he cared. There had to be something he could do to bring her comfort.

He tried to recall his mother. How she had tended to him when he fought with other children.

Though he would try to be strong and mask his pain, she would always know; lovingly pressing kisses against his forehead whenever a particularly bad wave took him. It made him feel safe and made all of his aches magically disappear.

It was the old cliche, kiss it better.

Looking down, he could make out beads of sweat trickling from the pores of her shoulder, Cloud's tongue slid across his hot, cracked lips.

He was drawn to the familiar, comforting scent of her; a fragrance attached to some of the few, precious memories of his childhood. Yet, there was something equally invigorating about the shape of her body, the parts of her he wanted to discover more.

Somehow, despite the humid weather, he was tempted by her body heat, feeling himself drawing unconsciously nearer. The desire to comfort her, to dip his head and trace his lips over her shoulder in a brief, feather-light caress, was taking over him.

She was so close to him already, it would be so easy.

Cloud urged himself to hold still and concentrate, not to be driven by selfish urges. There was a haze clinging to his consciousness, muddling his thoughts. It must have been the heat must have been making him light-headed.

Still, as he shifted back into place, delicately touching the cloth to her back, a silence rang out through the apartment. The room had become a private space for them, away from the rest of the world.

There was nothing for him to focus on but her.

For Tifa, the sting each stroke of cloth left was passed quickly, worth enduring to revel in the care that Cloud quietly expressed. The way his free hand rested against her lower back, supporting, occasionally massaging her flesh. The way his voice would dip, soothing apologies or words of comfort vibrating from his throat.

It was rare glimpse beneath the layers of snark and stoicism Cloud usually shrouded himself in. The Cloud from her memories, she could still sense traces of. It was a side she felt touched to know, he was comfortable enough to show around her.

Eventually, Cloud washed away the last flecks of blood and dust, leaving only the jagged, broken lines of skin. The scar Tifa would carry on the way to healing. Clearing his throat, Cloud set the cloth and bottle down, letting her know he was finished.

As Tifa turned back to face him, Cloud found himself engulfed by those soft, smouldering red eyes once more; holding him in a prolonged, unbroken touch. He shuddered, rapt by how such a seemingly innocuous, silent gesture could express such intimacy.

In how they knew him so well, could read the desire written in his expression. It was disarming, compelling him to lower his guard, to breach the distance they had always placed between one another. The tension once plaguing Tifa's muscles had melted away under his hands, leaving her slipping toward him. Her hands clasped his cheek, emboldening by the desire to penetrate further beneath those hard edges.

Her face hovered dangerously close to his own now, eyes wide and shining as he sunk deeper in, pulled unconsciously forward. Cloud's heart surged erratically as he felt her breath scorching against his skin. He couldn’t place what was coming over him, lulled by her the delicate flutter of lashes as her eyes closed, lips swelling.

His head tilted, covering the last vestige of distance between him.

His mouth sought hers without another moment to think, to hesitant. It was a movement that came so naturally, the cathartic release of years of pining, of feelings that seemed to daunting and complex to properly convey. 

The touch of her lips was sweet, a gentle caress steadily growing firmer, and more confident, each time it was reciprocated. It was a gesture so inherently her. The way she kept him at a slight distance, wanting to show him affection but frozen by hesitance and fear that it might turn him away.

His arms surrounded her tightly, an embrace he hoped might help to ease any doubts about his affection for her, basking in the weight of her body as it melted against his. Her hand cradled the back of his head, fingers massaging soothingly against his scalp. Their kiss broke as a moan ripped from Tifa’s mouth.

The deep, throaty sound racked his body, a dull, throb coursing through his head. Cloud flinched, images burning, one after the other, into the recesses of his mind. Tifa, lying naked underneath him, her hair unbound and spread over patches of grass. Her body bathed in moonlight, face flushed and voice cracking in a series of eerily similar moans as he rutted against her. Her head resting against his shoulder as dawn bled into the sky. 

Overwhelmed, Cloud slipped back, his breathing shaky. The room silently felt incredibly stifling, his head still swimming. Tifa's eyes were half-lidded as they pinned him quizzically, pants spilling from her swollen lips. The vision was almost enough to pull him back.

“I’ll, uh…" Cloud coughed, glancing down. "I’ll leave you to finish getting cleaned up.”

“Oh... Right. Thank you, Cloud.”

Keeping his gaze drawn to the floor as he left, he'd miss the flash of disappointment in her eyes. 


End file.
